The Long and Winding Road
by AKJ4
Summary: Jill and Gordon are working at Leeds General Infirmary. A relationship is developing, but will the rash and dangerous actions of one force them apart?
1. Chapter 1

"Goodbye Mr Farmouth." Jill smiled, seeing her last patient of morning surgery out of her consulting room, closing the door behind him. She returned to her desk, intent of finishing her patient notes, but no sooner did she pick up her pen then there was a knock on her door. "Come in!" She called, turning to see her visitor. Her professional smile widened into one of genuine happiness as Gordon Ormerod walked in. "Hello." She rose, walking towards him and placing her hands on his upper arms once the door was closed.

"Hi." He replied with a sigh, prompting a sarcastic response from her.

"Nice to see you too."

"Sorry." He sank into one of her patients' chairs with another sigh. "It's lovely to see you, as always. Just..."

"One of those mornings?" She provided to which he nodded. They both knew what 'one of those mornings' meant; they usually included the most awkward patients, the most talkative patients and the most grumpy children.

"I just wish there was more variation."

"How do you mean?" She frowned, sitting down in a chair opposite him.

"Well, it's just the place where I used to work was a cottage hospital, and as doctors we got to do a bit of everything. There was all this, but ward rounds aswell, and theatre and accidents to attend. Without wanting to sound morbid or sadistic, there's not much that holds more fear or excitement than the atmosphere of an operation or the tension of a particularly tricky immediate care case."

Jill smiled as she watched him, loving the fondness with which he spoke of his previous hospital. He'd told her many a story, and she had to admit, it did sound interesting. He fell silent, Jill presumed he was still thinking of his old job. She felt a twinge of guilt; sometimes she felt she was stopping him from taking a job at another cottage hospital.

"I can think of one thing that holds more excitement, and occasionally more fear."

His voice interrupted her thoughts. "Oh?"

"You."

She rolled her eyes at the corny statement, but grinned nevertheless; it served to rid her of the guilt. "Anyway." She said, changing the subject. "What have you got later?"

"About a hundred house calls and a million patients this evening."

She laughed at his exaggeration, complete with mock-anguished expression. In turn, she put on an over sympathetic tone. "How about a drink after work? Would that make it a little more bearable for you dear?"

"I'm sorry love." He expression of mock anguish turned to one of genuine disappointment. "I promised the kids I'd take them to the park tonight." Her expression mirrored his, though it brightened considerably at his next suggestion. "I am free for lunch though."

* * *

They strolled leisurely through the city, sticking close together, though being careful not to show inappropriate affection. They both knew without having to say where they were heading. It was a place they frequented when neither had brought lunch with them to work. Gordon held the door open for her when they arrived and she entered into the little café. It was situated near the market, a good walk from the hospital, but it was something they both enjoyed, especially after being stuck in stuffy offices with patients all morning.

They sat at the little table in the corner, beside the window, Jill with her back to the wall and Gordon at right angles to her, facing out of the window. His left knee was pressed with pleasing pressure against her right knee.

He opened the menu and laid it before them, moving closer to the other than was strictly necessary to read it, though more often than not their choices were predictable. This was one of those occasions, the waitress guessing their order before they uttered a word; cheese sandwich with a side salad for Jill and chicken sandwich for Gordon.

They ate in companionable silence, both content with the other sat beside them. A few patients and colleagues passed by the restaurant but none entered meaning they spent the whole hour together, uninterrupted. This included their return trip to the hospital to which they walked equally as leisurely as the outward trip but with some reluctance. Before too long, they would have to split up to their respective consulting rooms, and with no evening together to look forward to, it would be at least a day before they spent a considerable length time together.

"Come with me." Gordon said quietly as they entered the building.

Together they walked to Gordon's office. He closed the door behind them before turning and placing his hands on her waist, pulling her against him. Before she had chance to utter a word, his lips were gently on hers, to which she responded.

"I've been wanting to do that all day."

"Me too." She lowered her gaze, silent for a moment as she formulated her next words, wary of sounding needy. "Can you come to dinner one evening this week? It's been so long."

"I'd love to." His thumbs brushed her waist. "I'll let you know tomorrow."

She beamed, already looking forward to it. However, the smile faded a little as she glanced at her watch. "I'd better be getting on." She reluctantly extricated herself from his arms. With one last kiss, she stepped into the corridor, ready for work.


	2. Chapter 2

The dinner was cooking, the dessert chilling, and the table laid, complete with candles ready to be lit. All that was left was for Jill to get herself ready. A glance at her watch told her it was twenty past eight; she had ten minutes.

She dashed upstairs then proceeded to spend the next five minutes staring glumly into her wardrobe. What should she wear? A suit was too formal, too much like a business dinner, and besides, her saw her in suits everyday; this dinner was meant to be special. She could wear trousers and a more casual blouse, but she tended to wear those when she was relaxing. What about a dress? She looked to the right-hand side of her wardrobe where all her dresses hung together. Some she could discard straight away, being more suitable for balls and dances. She silently berated herself. Why did she never leave enough time to chose an outfit?

She finally, and after another few minutes deliberation, chose a red cocktail dress; three-quarter length sleeves and a hem just above the knee. She then hurriedly touched up her make-up, glad, for once, that Gordon was late.

It was a week since they'd made plans for dinner, and thankfully, his au pair was able to look after the children for the evening. So Gordon was on his way, the first time in weeks they'd been able to spend any time together aside from lunchtimes and brief moments at work. Needless to say, she was looking forward to it.

Just as she was checking her appearance in her mirror to the left of the wardrobe, the doorbell rang out through the house. She smoothed down her dress, then ran down the stairs and opened the front door.

"Hello darling."

"Hello." She smiled, stepping aside and letting him in. Whilst he closed the door, she took in his appearance; black suit trousers and jacket with a crisp white shirt, the top two buttons open with no tie.

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you." She blushed, glad she'd, finally, chosen the right outfit. "You look particularly handsome yourself." She fingered the collar of his shirt before placing her lips in a soft kiss.

"This would be where I give you a bottle of wine, some flowers or chocolates." He smiled wryly.

"Gordon you know I don't care about any of that."

"I know, but it would be nice." He sighed. "If I carry a bunch of flowers on the bus it would look a little suspicious."

"I know." She said softly. It would be insensitive for her to change the subject, though she wished she could. This wasn't the tone to the evening she had planned.

He continued. "It would be easier if I could bring the car. But I think parking outside your house all night would arise more suspicion."

"Gordon." She sighed. "I know the circumstances aren't ideal, but it's better than nothing..." She trailed off, some insecurity setting in. She thought his words were most likely stemming from them not being able to spend enough time together. But there was some niggling doubt. Part of her did realise there was a possibility his words meant something different. Did he think their relationship not worth all the sneaking around, the extra effort? Did he want a more conventional relationship instead? "It is better than nothing, isn't it?" She added hesitantly.

"Of course." He answered immediately, taking her hands firmly in his. He had heard the insecurity in her tone. "It's much, much better than nothing." His voice held such sincerity, she could do nothing but believe him. She felt a little embarrassed for letting her thoughts run away with her, but the feeling was fleeting as he pressed his lips firmly against hers, reassuring her even further, and making her whole heartedly believe her own words; this was most definitely much better than nothing.

* * *

The dinner and dessert, to Jill's relief, were much enjoyed by Gordon. They chatted naturally throughout, about how the children were doing, issues at the hospital and other inconsequential topics, teasing and flirting with each other frequently. The insecurities of earlier were forgotten.

They moved into the kitchen, Gordon insisted he wash up. Jill dried a few things to make room for everything on the draining board. He finished the last pan, placed it on the side, then dried his hands on the towel Jill held out for him.

"I do wish I could take you on a proper date, dinner followed by a moonlit stroll. There would be no pots to wash." His tone was wistful, holding none of the regret it had done earlier.

She smiled, allowing her mind to drift. It did sound wonderful. But there was something to be said for the privacy of one's own home. "I can think of one thing that idea of yours won't allow."

"Oh." He turned from placing the towel over the rail to look at her properly, intrigued by the tone of her voice, the deliberate slow emphasis on each word.

"Mmm... I wouldn't be able to do this." She reached up and placed her hands either side of his face. She leant forwards and brushed his lips with hers before capturing them. He responded, wrapping his arms tightly around her and allowing her to deepen the kiss, willing submitting to its rapidly increasing intensity.

Eventually, she began to pull away slowly, the contact lingering. Her hands slid from around his neck to his shoulders, whilst his moved to her waist, allowing her room to look at him. Her eyes were shining, her cheeks flushed and her lips curved into a contented smile.

"I doubt any restaurant staff would allow that."

"Erm, no." He replied breathlessly. "I suppose not."

* * *

It was a little after 10 o'clock when Gordon left Jill's home that night. Both had been reluctant to part, but both had knew it was for the best, if not for them, then for the children. It had been five weeks since their mother had died. They were coping well, gradually returning to the happy smiling children in the photographs adorning the walls of the Ormerods' house. However, they still had tearful nights, and needed their father there.

So Gordon had left Jill, just in time to catch the last bus which would take him out of the city centre into the the less densely built area, complete with semi-detached and detached houses with large gardens. Jill had nothing of the sort in her flat comprising the basement of a house, one in a row of back-to-back terraces; a remnant of a time when Leeds' factories thrived.

She wandered through to the kitchen of her flat as she compared the difference between their homes, between how they lived. She lived alone. He lived with two children, an au pair, and goldfish. She tried to picture his home from the descriptions he'd given her. Despite working with him for ten years, she hadn't actually been to his house. It was too risky now anyway. They both seemed to agree, without actually discussing it, that it was too soon for Tom and Katie to be told of their father's new relationship. They needed to adjust to the absence of their mother before a new woman came into their lives. Besides, Jill and Gordon hadn't actually discussed the future. If it wasn't to be a permanent thing, then there was really now reason to tell the children. Jill knew what she wanted. But Gordon... Sometimes she wasn't sure. She vaguely nauseous as this thought crossed her mind, but quickly dismissed it, choosing instead to concentrate on putting away the clean crockery and cutlery. Her lips curved into a soft smile as she recalled the exchange that had taken place before that very sink only an hour ago. Her smile widened even further as her mind wandered through the rest of the evening, how their conversation in the kitchen led them through into the living room. A rather enjoyable hour had thus been spent.


	3. Chapter 3

Doctor Weatherill opened her office door and escorted her last patient through to reception. As she went, she glanced at her watch; 12:30. Morning surgery had progressed extremely slowly and as a result, she'd finished half an hour later than she should have done. She was sure to be due another ticking off from Mr Hamilton, the hospital administrator. It was a recurrent episode, but Jill did nothing to change it. If she thought her patients needed more than their allocated 10 minutes to be treated effectively, she was going to let them have it. Anyway, she was sure the administrator was beginning to see that she was never going to change, whatever he said.

She waved Mrs Rainworth away, placed her notes behind reception for refiling, then moved into the corridor. It stretched from reception, past the offices belonging to the six general practitioners', and to the double doors that led through to the rest of the hospital. From her position therefore, she could see whether Gordon may be about to make an appearance. She hadn't seen him since he left her flat the night before. They weren't one of those nauseating couples who felt bereft without the other. Nor was she turning into a vomit-inducing woman in love. Still, she thought it would have been nice to say hello to him.

"Doctor Weatherill."

The voice was not one Jill welcomed, resulting in the barely suppressed groan as she turned. "Yes Mrs Clay?"

"One of your patient's rang. A Mister..." The receptionist glanced down at the note in her hand. "Richard Graham. He's on your list of house calls but he has to go out. He wonders if you'll be able to see him in the next half hour."

A sigh escaped Jill's lips but she nodded none the less. "Tell him I'll be there in about ten minutes." She turned on her heel and retraced her steps to her office which she'd left just half a minute previously. A wistful glance up the corridor told her Gordon was nowhere in sight.

On autopilot almost, she slipped on her black trench coat, checked her pen and car keys were in her handbag, and did a quick mental inventory of her doctors' bag. She then exited her office once again, glanced up and down the corridor once again, and felt a pang of disappointment... once again.

* * *

Upon arriving at the home of Richard Graham, an elderly man in high standing in the Yorkshire area, Jill immediately wondered why he had needed a home visit. He walked steadily towards her as she pulled up into the vast driveway. His handshake was firm and he movement appeared to cause him no pain. She was, however, thankful she had made no comment as he handed her a cup of tea and began to speak. It seemed he had noticed some symptoms which concerned him that very morning, and he would not have had time to travel to the hospital and back in time to go out, to a funeral no less.

From his descriptions, his symptoms did indeed prove worrying. He described a headache he'd been experiencing for some time. This was joined by vomiting over the previous couple of days. In addition, he had awoken that morning unable to control his eye movement at times. As he spoke to Jill, she did indeed note occasional jerky eye movements.

She placed her tea cup upon the coffee table between the two ornate settees upon which they were sat. "I'd like you to come into hospital Mr Graham."

"Oh." He sounded surprised, his brow creasing in question. "When would you like me?"

She gave him a level yet soft gaze. "I'd like to take you in now."

"But..." He looked distressed. "I need to be there, for my sister. I need to see her have a proper send off."

Jill sighed. It was never easy persuading a patient to be admitted immediately, there was always something more pressing to attend to. "Mr Graham, there is the possibility that this is very serious. You need to come in straight away."

"Out of the question Doctor." He rose, gathering the empty tea cups and proceeding to carry them through the corridor and into the kitchen. He continued speaking as he went, assuming, without looking back, that Jill was following him. "My sister was good to me. She took care of me after my dear wife passed away. This is the least I can do for her."

Jill leant on the counter top next to the oven, silent a moment as she formulated her plan. She watched as her patient turned on the hot tap, squirted a little Fairy Liquid into the bowl, and proceeded to wash the delicate china cups. "Okay, how about this... You attend the funeral, but you come to the hospital straight afterwards. I'll pick you up from the church."

"Really?" The elderly gentleman sounded less regal than before, slightly chocked. He placed the second tea cup upon the draining board with painstaking slowness, as if afraid it would break with anymore speed. Jill suspected he was just collecting his emotions before turning back to her. Once he did, his eyes were unusually bright, but he appeared in control. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you Doctor."

"No need." She smiled kindly, glad he had accepted her plan. "All I ask is that you give me all the details, and pack a bag now, ready in case you have to stay in. I shall return to the hospital and make arrangements for your arrival."

Richard did as she asked, and ten minutes later, she left his house, just as the black limousine and hearse pulled up. It wasn't an ideal situation, she would have liked to have admitted him immediately. But she also had to consider the emotional well-being of her patient. It was obvious attending the funeral was incredibly important to him. She couldn't stop him. If she had persuaded him to return with her to the hospital, his distress at missing the funeral may have considerably hindered his recovery. She just hoped the delay in treatment wasn't losing him valuable time.


	4. Chapter 4

She returned to the hospital, made all the necessary arrangements, then drove to the church. She didn't have to wait long before she saw Mr Graham crossing the road towards her. He was despondent during the journey, understandably so after burying his sister, and with the worry of his illness. She didn't attempt to make conversation, she sensed he needed time to think and reflect. Afterall, when he'd a requested a home visit that morning, he surely hadn't expected to be admitted that very day. She pulled into LGI's sizeable car park and led him inside and to the doctor who would be taking over his case. A few words were exchanged between the doctors, Jill handed over Mr Graham's file, and then she left. The patient was out of her care.

She returned to her office, deposited her doctor's bag, then made her way somewhat wearily across the corridor to the staffroom. It was 1:25. She was late for her house calls, but having had no lunch, she was running low on energy, a quick cup of tea and a biscuit for have to make an adequate replacement for lunch. A sigh escaped her and she rubbed her forehead as she waited for the water to boil. She'd referred the patient, there was no more she could do. It didn't stop her worrying about him though.

"Problem?"

She turned to see Gordon enter the room, drawing the door closed behind him. The sight of him drew a small smile from her. "I've just referred a patient with some worrying symptoms."

He moved to lean on the table opposite her. "What do you think it is?"

"I think it might be haemangioblastoma."

"Brain tumour of the blood vessels..." He placed a sympathetic hand on her arm.

"I've asked to be kept posted."

He nodded, offering his arms to her. She gratefully stepped forward, resting her head on her shoulder and sliding her arms around him. One of his arms held her close round the waist, his free hand rubbing her back, serving to dispel some of the tension that had built up through the morning.

She sighed against his neck, closing her eyes and feeling herself relax. It didn't matter that she hadn't had a lunch break; one minute with Gordon was refreshing her more than an hour with her lunchbox would have done.

* * *

The whistling of the kettle, indicating the water was boiling, drew Jill from Gordon's arms. "Cup of tea?" She turned briefly to glance back at him as she poured the steaming liquid into one of the hospital's cups.

"No thanks, I should be making a start on my housecalls." Despite this, he stayed perched on the table, watching her replace the kettle on the stove, and move to the fridge.

"I'm late already, but I'll go when I've had my tea. I need a sugar boost." She illustrated her point as, after pouring in a dash of milk, she proceeded to drop four heaped teaspoons of sugar into the brown liquid.

Gordon pulled an expression of disgust at her as she returned to his side. She merely laughed and sipped the liquid, gradually feeling more alert. "You do realise you'll have patients offering you tea all afternoon anyway?"

"I know but I have Mr Watkins first, and his house is less than sanitary, poor chap." She took another sip of tea before sighing. "His daughter comes round once a week, I do what I can and so do the nurses who go to change is dressing. It's not enough though."

"Well maybe he should consider going into a nursing home."

"Oh Gordon." She shook her head. "He won't be happy there. He likes his independence. He does what he can, but his house has no hot water, and his leg is very painful. I'm trying to go round more often."

"You care too much."

"So do you." She retorted. "Anyway..." She changed the subject, nudging him as she perched on the table beside him. "How about coming round to mine tonight?"

"I can't." He shook his head regretfully. "It's the children's parents evening at their school."

"Of course, sorry, I forgot."

"Another night though?" He looked hopefully at her.

"Of course." She replied, flashing him a smile before moving to the sink. She twisted the tap and allowed a spurt of water to spill into her cup before placing the china on the side. A glance to her watch put a stop to any wistful thoughts of a lazy evening with Gordon. "Now, I really have to go." She dashed past him, pausing only to place a kiss to his cheek as she passed.


	5. Chapter 5

The week passed, and then another, and another, without any materialisation of the dinner Jill and Gordon had been hoping for. Plans had been made, but an unexpected house call intervened, Tom was ill, friends made impromptu visits. Times when their lunches coincided became sparser, even their tea breaks seemed to be diminishing in number. Brief exchanges of words in the corridor, brushing of hands as they passed each other were all they had to content themselves with.

Jill thus cursed rather loudly and rather fiercely when she returned to her office to find a note from Gordon that he would not be able to make their lunch date as planned. An 'issue at the children's school' was the only explanation she received, but she understood, quickly pushing her own feelings to one side. Various factors had served to disrupt Jill and Gordon's plans, but the main one was his children. It was been nearly six months since their mother had passed away. And at first, after the initial devastation, it appeared as though they were coping well, but then things started to change. They became increasingly teary, their school work was disrupted. Gordon was, understandably upset, often confiding in Jill during their precious few moments together. She had tried to soothe him, allowed him to talk things through, holding him when he succumbed to tears.

With a sigh, the female doctor left her consulting room, having realised she'd left a file. The closing of a door to her left made her pause, turn, and allowed her to see the very subject of her earlier thoughts. Doctors bag in hand, coat slung over his arm, he was stooped slightly locking his door, obviously leaving the hospital for the night. "Everything alright?" Jill said in a low voice, halting his passage out of the building when he reached her side.

"I… The school want a word." He looked around somewhat aimlessly, the situation obviously weighing heavily on his shoulders.

"I read your note…" The sentence was left hanging in the hope that he'd elaborate and share some of what of worrying him. He'd always been able to speak to her. The problem was he had less and less time to do so.

"I, erm." He glanced around once more, the lost expression in his eyes creating a burning sensation in Jill's chest, accompanied by a lump in her throat. "I wouldn't ask but could you finish off for me here, only-."

"No problem." She interrupted gently. "You go on, don't worry about anything here."

"Thanks." He brushed her arm, just briefly, but it was the first contact they'd had in days. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Gordon!" She called suddenly, stopping his path through the corridor. She stepped up the few feet back to his side, her voice quieting more than before. "Ring me, if you need to talk, anytime."

"Thanks." He said again, a little of the despondency leaving his expression.

"I mean it." Her gaze was intense, open, sincere; he had no reason to doubt she wouldn't mind him ringing in the middle of the night. He nodded in reply, holding her gaze a moment longer than was necessary, taking a few steps backwards, before finally turning and leaving the hospital.


	6. Chapter 6

The ringing of the telephone broke Jill roughly from her sleep. She groaned, swung her legs from the warmth of the bedcovers and shot somewhat unsteadily to her feet. She flicked the light switch in the living room as she entered, her eyes immediately closing tightly at the bright glare. She snatched up the receiver on the fifth ring. A glance through half closed eyes at the clock told it was nearly two o'clock in the morning. An urgent patient visit was the only reason she could she would be called so early. "Hello Doctor Weatherill." She said, forcing professionalism into her sleepy tone. The voice that met her was, however, not who she was expecting. "Gordon!"

He was hesitant as he spoke, obviously wary of the lateness of the hour. "Is it okay to talk?"

"Of course it is." She settled back into the cushions of the settee, allowing herself to relax once she knew she wouldn't have to attend to a patient. "What's happened?" She prompted when he was silent.

"I would have called earlier. But the children got up again and they've only just gone back to sleep."

"It's alright." She soothed, hating how despondent he sounded, and how she couldn't hug him like she so desperately wanted to. "What happened at the school?"

He sighed, and she could picture him running a hand through his hair, messing up the strands as often happened when he was frustrated. "Tom got into a fight."

"Oh." She released a breath. She knew of no occasion when either of the children had been in any serious trouble at school. The situation had suddenly become a lot more serious. "What did the headmaster say?"

"That he would be lenient on Tom considering the circumstances." The pair were silent for a few moments until a sound like the slamming of something solid against wood met Jill's ears. Gordon then rushed forth, his voice building in its despair. "I just don't understand it Jill! One minute they're happy and excited, running around screaming about Christmas. And the next minute they're crying. And now violence! I didn't bring my children up that way."

"I know you didn't." She said softly, trying to calm him as much as she could over the phone. "Look… Shall I- Do you want me to come round?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"I don't mind, honestly."

"I know you don't." He sighed once more. "But the children might wake up again, one of the neighbours might see.

"Alright." She put a stop to his words; this wasn't the time to discuss the limitations of their secret relationship. She turned her attention back to his children. "It's perfectly natural that Katie and Tom would still be upset, they've had a trying year. And it's also natural that they would be excited about Christmas. But… It's only a thought. But do you think perhaps the upset is worse and the trouble at school has occurred because of Christmas?"

"I'm not following you." He replied after a moment's silence during which he'd obviously mulled over her words.

"It's their first Christmas without their mother, yes? Christmas is a very family-orientated time and perhaps this is just brining Caroline's absence to the front of their thoughts more often. And perhaps they're feeling guilty, do you think? About enjoying Christmas without her?"

Gordon was silent again, and Jill let him be, realising he needed to consider her words carefully. She leant back into the soft cushions behind her, lifting the telephone cord over the arm of the settee to facilitate the manoeuvre. Despite herself, she could feel her eyelids start to droop; the soft breathing of Gordon in her ear reminding her of the nights she had spent in his arms, falling asleep to the feeling of his exhalations in her hair.

"You're amazing Jill." Startled from her relaxed state, she released a noise of surprise, thankfully inaudible when he continued. "Thank you sweetheart. For everything. You've made things much clearer. And I promise, when everything has settled down, we'll do something special together, to make up for everything."

"Don't worry about me. You just concentrate on your children."


	7. Chapter 7

"Jill." Gordon caught her arm, his voice low.

She turned, pausing in her journey from reception to her consulting room, shifting the fifteen or so files Mrs Clay had apologetically handed her. "Are you alright?" She noted the lift to his voice from the day before. His eyes held some of the brightness she was accustomed to seeing; a little of the sadness seemed to have left his expression.

"Have you got a moment later? I just want a quick word."

"Tea after morning surgery? If it ever ends that is." She pulled a face as she indicated her pile of patient files, noting with some envy that Gordon's appeared half the size.

"Ah yes, sorry about that."

She returned her gaze to his face, seeing the guilty expression resting there. "What?" She narrowed her eyes, attempting to discern the reason to explain why he was currently shifting uncomfortably in the middle of the corridor.

"I erm… I may be the reason you have so many patients." At her raised eyebrow, he continued. "I've got another meeting at the school. I have to leave at half ten at the latest. I know you're having to cover for me a lot. I'm sorry I-"

"Don't be." She cut him off. The smile on her face was genuine and kind, prompting a similar response from him. He felt such a rush of affection then that he just wanted to take her in his arms and hug her. Unfortunately, their current location in the middle of the busy hospital corridor prevented. He had to settle for a murmur of thanks and a brush of his hand down her arm. This could have been taken as a show of friendship between colleagues to anyone who may have witnessed the exchanged, but the widening of Jill's smile told him his gesture had been interpreted as he'd meant it.

"Look, tea seems unlikely, but I should be finished with the school by lunchtime. How about I buy you lunch at that teashop you like, to make up for everything?"

"You've no need to make up for anything Gordon. However," She continued. "Lunch sounds lovely. It's been awhile since we spent some time together."

He nodded in agreement, brushing his hands once more down her arm. He was about to continue the conversation until he glanced past Jill to the very busy waiting room. The very busy waiting room with increasingly irate patients. Increasingly irate patients who threatened to ruin his lunch date with Jill. "Looks like we should be getting on." He tilted his head down the corridor. She followed his gaze and sighed; it was going to be one of those mornings.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey ho!" He poked his head round the door, smiling broadly to see Jill alone in the room.

"Hi." She replied a little less exuberantly, but smiled nonetheless. "I just need to finish these notes. Come in and sit down."

Both were silent for a few minutes. The only sound was the scratching of Jill's fountain pen on the paper in front of her as she filled in the relevant details in elegant curvy handwriting. "You look tired." Gordon eventually said as she laid down her pen, having assessed her during the time he'd been in the room. The dark circles under her eyes were obvious despite her make-up, as was the weary note in her voice.

A sigh accompanied her reply. "I am."

"I shouldn't have phoned you so late last night. I'm sorry."

"Don't ever apologise." She shot back. "I told you; I'm whenever you need me, regardless of the time. I mean it."

"And I appreciate it." He smiled, covering her hand with his. His gesture was returned; she turned her hand, curling her fingers around his. "I've missed this… I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." She whispered in reply, his sincere statement pulling at her heart. But now was not the time to give in her feelings for him. She had to focus on him. "How are the children?"

"We're getting there I think. I spoke to them this morning. You were right; they are upset about their first Christmas without Caroline. And they do feel bad about being excited about the season without her." A heavy sigh escaped him then, a little of the newly-returned sparkle leaving his eyes. "There were tears… I've kept them at home today. The school weren't too happy… But they understand." He paused again, reciprocating the gentle increase in pressure Jill's fingers exerted on his own. It was a small gesture from her, but the level of support it conveyed was received gratefully but its recipient. He lifted her hand, placing a gentle kiss to her knuckles, his eyes raised to see a small smile form on her tired visage. "I spoke to the school about Tom's fight too. They're not going to let him off completely; he has to write an apology to the other boy and they both have one detention together. They are being lenient on him thankfully."

"Good." She breathed, thankful to see at least a little of the worry lifted from him. "You said the children are at home now?"

He nodded. "The nanny's looking after them."

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off? I'm sure Katie and Tom would appreciate it."

"I couldn't Jill." He shook his head. "I can't put more work on you."

"I'll manage." A soft, slightly teasing smile rested on her lips. "Come on Gordon. You're not going to be much use here worrying about them are you?"

"No… I suppose not." He laughed, shaking his head; she knew him too well. He got to his feet then, reluctantly releasing her hand, only after a gentle squeeze. His hand lay on the door handle, about to exert pressure to depress it but he paused, turned and retraced his steps. Bending down, he placed a lingering kiss to her lips, a kiss that had long been needed. "I love you." He kissed her again and then he was gone, leaving Jill feeling bereft with a confusing mixture of love, worry, and aloneness.


	9. Chapter 9

After Gordon's departure, Jill returned to her paperwork with a deep sigh. The lunch he had proposed earlier in the day seemed to have been forgotten. Though she couldn't blame him; his children had to come first after all. It was just the simple fact that she missed him. It had been so long since they'd spent any great length of time together. The last time they had made love was an even more distant memory.

She remembered the time, all those weeks ago, when they'd spent a whole fifteen minutes break together. The staff room, for once had been empty. And they'd kissed, and hugged, and joked, and laughed. And no one had interrupted them. They'd planned to have dinner. Yet the meal hadn't materialised. And like so many of their plans of the past few weeks, was pushed back until it was simple forgotten. Forgotten by Gordon at least... Jill was sure she could count all of the meals or little tea breaks or talks that had been suggested. All of which she had looked forward to immensely.

Still, at least she had her work to occupy her. Sending Gordon home would considerably increase her workload. She would no doubt become even more tired than she currently was. Yet it would hopefully mean she would be able to drop straight to sleep when she finally slid into bed, instead of yearning pathetically – as she saw it – for a man the other side of the city.


	10. Chapter 10

A week. A whole week. Seven days since she'd last seen Gordon, spoken to Gordon. And how she missed him. She'd tried to tell herself it was ridiculous, pathetic, to yearn after a man, but she couldn't help the pang she felt when she heard him mentioned, saw his name on a patient file, thought about him. He'd elected to keep the children off school for a while following the progress of the previous week, and had thus taken companionate leave from work to spend some much needed time with them. He was due back on Monday, five whole days away.

She glanced over at the phone on her desk, her fingers itching to reach towards it yet she kept her hands firmly occupied with writing up patient notes. Many times her hand had hovered over the phone. But she never picked it up. No phone call ever materialised. Her hesitation was for the simple fact that she didn't know how a call from her would be received; he was spending much needed time with his family, she didn't want to intrude. She didn't want to risk her call being unwanted.

A sharp knock came upon her dark wood door, providing a welcome distraction from the burning in her chest. She bid the person entry, and the door opened to reveal the receptionist. "Sorry Doctor Weatherill, but I thought you'll like to know, the Christmas and New Year's rosters are up."

"Great, thank you Mrs Clay." She smiled, genuinely. She always enjoyed the holiday season, though perhaps for the wrong reasons. Working in such a large hospital, she only worked as a general practitioner, except for those rare occasions when extra staff were needed. And so, Jill eagerly signed up for to be on emergency call-out for the night of Christmas Eve. On Christmas Day and Boxing Day, she put her name down for any minor and gynaecological emergency surgeries. And the night of New Year's Eve was to be spent in the casualty department. During the rest of the festive period, she would carry out her normal GP duties, albeit with a higher workload due to the staff shortage the time of year always brought about.

It wasn't only for the extra medical experience that she signed up for the work. Christmas spent with her parents was certainly off the agenda, and she has no family of her own, so it was only fair she let the doctors with children and spouses have the time off.

That thought inevitably brought Gordon to the fore of her mind, and as she returned to her office and closed her door, she released an involuntary and heavy sigh. He'd mentioned a while ago that he had booked Christmas Eve to New Year's Day off for the children. Another whole week apart…

She cursed their situation, not for the first time wishing their relationship were simpler, yet knowing she wouldn't change a minute of the time they'd spent together.


	11. Chapter 11

He closed Katie's bedroom door softly, turning to descend the stairs with a small smile on his lips. The children seemed to a lot happier. They still of course had their tearful moments, but they now seemed to understand it was okay to miss their mother and be excited about Christmas at the same time. They seemed to appreciate spending some quality time with their father, and of course the added bonus of missing school.

He was immensely grateful to Jill for her advice. Jill… His thoughts turned to her and a wistful sigh escaped. Twelve days, twelve whole days since he'd last seen her, last spoken to her. He couldn't remember a time when they'd spent so much time apart. Even when they were just friends he would have looked forward to seeing her again. But now, with the direct their relationship had taken, he missed her an incredible amount.

He couldn't wait to see her beautiful smile directed at him, or her bright eyes held by his own. Then there was her rich voice, with the gentle tones she reserved just for him. He wished he could take her in his arms, place his lips upon her soft ones, feel her body fitting against his the way it always did so perfectly. He released yet another sigh, realising wishing would not, unfortunately, materialise Jill in front of him.

But tomorrow was Monday. The children were going to return to normality and go back to school, and he was going to return to the hospital, to Jill.


	12. Chapter 12

Jill drummed her fingers on the file she was holding, making small talk with the receptionist, anything to create an excuse to linger in reception a moment longer. She looked up sharply, her breath catching, her pulse jumping each time the door was opened. But each time the person entering was not the one she so desperately wanted to see.

"I'll, erm. I'll see you later Mrs Clay." She eventually said with a forced smile; no longer could she delay. Just as she turned, the door opened once more, a set of footsteps moved towards the desk and stopped.

"Good morning Mrs Clay."

At hearing the oh so familiar voice, Jill whirled round, having to grasp the wall to steady herself. "Gordon." She breathed, catching his eye from across reception. He offered a small smile, his head tilting imperceptibly in greeting. The expression she shot him was one that she hoped was meaningful, and conveyed her intentions, before she turned once again, and made her way to her office.

She had been in her consulting room for a mere couple of minutes, before a knock came upon the door. It was opened, and Gordon stuck his head round, grinning at her. She couldn't help but smile response, ushering him in and closing the door behind him. The rush of emotion she felt upon seeing him was one she was unaccustomed to feeling. They were hard to discern, and tangled. Yet there was one feeling she was sure of; love. And with this, the loneliness she'd been feeling all week faded into the background.

"How are the children?" She said as she turned to face him. He had moved to perch on her desk, his soft eyes prompting her to step closer to him.

"Better." He smiled. "I think we made some progress. They seem to understand it's okay to miss their mother, and be happy at the same time."

"And you?" She tilted her head, looking him in the eyes with a soft expression.

"All the better for seeing you." He slid his arms around her waist, tugging her close to him.

"Seriously Gordon." A slight frown clouded her expression, despite the tingles that shot through her as soon as her body came into contact with him. "How are you?"

"I am being serious." His tone lost its jokey note. "I'm relieved my children are happier… And I'm happy, now I have you in my arms."


End file.
